The Not-So Traditional Birthday Hat

We had the kind of weekend that you can't help but hope for: good friends; time spent with family; several projects completed; some rest; and a birthday party to boot. The birthday party was for one of Audrey's best friends, a now-three-year-old with a penchant for hardware tools and watching Paula Deen. His is the crafty mama who made Audrey the green apron pictured above. Assuming he had already been supplied with an apron by his mama, we thought he could use a little chef's hat to complete the look.

The free pattern can be found at this site, sent to me by a friend (Thanks, Megan!). Audrey, always the eager model when it comes to hats, tried it on for me while busy with her own project in the kitchen, so we could check the fit one last time before wrapping it up with a sweet cookbook. Then it was off to celebrate our young birthday chef. Look out, Cordon Bleu!

For Posterity's Sake: Week in Review 34

I cannot stop the weeks from coming. They keep plowing on regardless of if I think they ought to slow down and take a minute to let the rest of us catch up or at least allow us to hunch over to catch our breath. And so, I suppose that Audrey is right on track and should be voicing opinions that require complex trains of logic. Her memory should be such that she can bring up something I mentioned in passing a month ago. If I could only keep track of what day it is (or the time, or if I have fed the dog) then these tidbits coming out of her mouth would not surprise me. Every time.

And yet, here we go again:

Monday night we had finished dinner and Jason was attempting to clean Audrey's hands with a dishcloth. Audrey was trying to wiggle out of her chair while hiding her hands. Jason explained that in order to get out of her chair she had to have her hands cleaned. Then he said, "You have to think about these things. You need to use this," as he pointed at her head.

She looked at him oddly and said, "My boo-boo?"



Part of our day on Monday was spent taking a walk, during which we passed a Dachshund and Audrey commented, "That dog is little like a mouse."



We also played with alphabet puzzles that day. I have tried to point out the letters on the puzzles before, but didn't think that Audrey was interested. I was a bit stunned when she pointed to the letter beside a picture of a cat and said, "That's a C." I was even more impressed when she pointed to the letter beside an octopus and said, "That's an O."

Excited about this new skill, I pointed to the puzzle piece featuring a rabbit and the letter "R." "What is that?" I asked, pointing to the letter.

"That's a letter," she said. I can't really argue with that.



On Tuesday, Jason was in the office when Audrey asked about his whereabouts. "He's in the office," I said. Audrey looked at the room we were in, waved her arm around in it in a circular motion and asked, "What is this?"

"This is the family room," I said.

"Like in the movies?" she asked. I'm just as curious as you are, what movies has she been watching?


Tuesday night, while on a walk with my friend, Jill, Audrey asked, "Does Jill like honey?" Followed with, "Pooh likes honey." Maybe Pooh has a family room, too.


Wednesday, while recounting a tale from earlier in the week, Audrey asked, "Did I talk backward?" Translation: Did I talk back to you.


Thursday night I had to attend a meeting, so Audrey had a date night with her Dad, running around the backyard and playing with blocks. On Friday morning she was still feeling the glow from her Daddy/daughter night. When I came to get her out of her room she asked (very politely) for me to leave. Then she called for her Dad to come get her. I came back in and explained that he had already left for work. Then I asked if she wanted to get changed out of her pajamas and take the dog for a walk. While she wanted to walk Emmy, she did not want to be taken out of her pajamas, "My Daddy put them on," she said.

We have been enjoying a productive, and yet somehow still restful weekend. We hope you've been doing the same. And while I'm not quite ready to plow on into another week, I can't wait to see just what Audrey will come up with next.

A Shout Out to my Working Mama Friends

I received a very sweet message of encouragement from a working mama friend yesterday about what I try to do here on the blog. (Thanks, Angie!). Today, I want to return the favor by giving a little shout out to all my working mama friends, many who have been so supportive and encouraging of my efforts here.

My worker mama friends and I are not all that different. Our days look a little different and take shape in different ways - they each have their unique set of challenges. But our goals are the same. We want to raise loving, well-adjusted children who look back fondly on their childhoods; we want to be a connected wife whom our spouse is excited to see at the end of the day; we want our families (including ourselves) to be healthy; we want an organized house that is a haven to come home to rather than one more obstacle in the way of peace; we want to grow as people; and at the end of the day, we want to have something left.

I was given the opportunity to be a stay-at-home mom and jumped at it (not to say that it wasn't an adjustment not getting a paycheck to help my family financially, or that it wasn't hard to read and hear the message being sent out in magazine articles and talk shows at that time that by making this choice I was choosing to become a penniless spinster as the only result of such a decision would be my husband dying or leaving me for a younger model - I decided to take my chances). But I have seen my working mama friends in action and heard their stories. They do what they can to excel at their jobs. Then they come home hoping to provide a healthy dinner for their families, a helping hand with the kids' homework, spend quality time with the kids, quality time with their husband, clean the house, workout, oh, and somehow have something left over that is all their own. In the 5 or 6 hours allotted between work and bedtime. What ends up happening is this: they scrap the workout and put off that project they've been meaning to start for a month, or they go to the gym or finally begin that project and end the day feeling just a little guilty that they weren't somewhere else. They crawl into bed, the next day's to-do list already forming in their heads. I want to head in the direction of the library self-help aisle just thinking about it. My days are full, but by staying home I've tried to limit my focus a bit. The dog has a shot at being walked and the laundry a 50/50 chance of being done.

So to my worker mama friends, I want to say this (feel free to take it with a grain of "she has no idea what she's talking about" - my feet are not wearing your shoes):

Some days I feel as though I've spent the day well. But other days, when I allow the other obligations I've created for myself or the voice that says "this house must be the dirtiest one in America" to take over, I end the day guilt-ridden. Try to cut yourself some slack. Think about the Cheerios moment:

Back when I made time to watch tv, I saw an episode of Oprah where she discussed some shows that had made the biggest impact on her. She mentioned a girl named Kate. Kate's mother had died of cancer. Her diagnosis known a year before her death, Kate's family spent her mother's last year traveling and spending time together as a family. But when asked what her favorite moment from that year was, Kate answered that she had asked her mother to wake her if she got up at night to eat a bowl of Cheerios. Her mother did wake her at 2am that night and they shared a bowl of Cheerios. That was Kate's moment. When I know I have a day ahead that's less then Audrey-focused, I try to remember Kate. I tell myself that Audrey doesn't need me to make a big production to show that I care. Any moment can be special simply because I'm present with her in it. Then I use the time I have. I dawdle for two minutes in front of the lobster tank at the grocery store or let Audrey sprinkle the toppings on our morning oatmeal, because you never know, one of those just might be her moment.

Here's to you worker mamas. Here's to finding your moment.

Summer Picnic Table-Style

Last night, we savored summer right into the evening by sharing a picnic with one of my dearest childhood friends. Our table was bright with the colors of summer and a Caprese Salad with cherry tomatoes fresh from the garden. The playground, just steps away, burst with shouts from children stretching their daylight as far as it would go. Audrey, like any child - more intent on the playground than her plate, joined them, throwing off her shoes as she ran as if a symbol of her liberation. Then it was off for another summer walk, this one under the moon and through the trees. And we all stayed up a little past our bedtime, which is what summer is all about.

A Summer Walk

We are taking in the last days of summer. Savoring each one. Step by step.

Not Quite Grandma's

We had a tease of Fall this weekend: temperatures cool enough to inspire thoughts of roasted turkeys. (Of course, it doesn't take much to inspire that sort of mood in this house - a good sale at the grocery store can get us down-right nostalgic for Thanksgiving). Having happened upon quite the sale (and my husband being quite the bird roaster) we celebrated the fleetingly cool weekend in style. Jason requested dinner rolls.

Luckily, my grandmother was a yeast roll-extraordinaire. She made at least three pans of them for every family holiday. By hand. She also raised four children, became a nurse when most adults opt for a mid-life crisis, sewed her granddaughters' prom dresses, and leapt tall buildings in a single bound. (I am sure her children could tell you tales of the time she forgot to pack their school lunches or almost left one of them at the store, but I had the luxury of being her granddaughter and she never made any mistakes with me).

I don't have grandma's Wonder Mama cape, but I do have her recipe, a bread machine, and her nose (whether this helps in the kitchen, I don't know). A little bit of tinkering with the bread machine and her recipe and I've come up with this:

Grandma's Bread Machine Yeast Rolls:

Put the following ingredients into your bread machine basket in this order:

1 3/4 c. lukewarm water
3 1/2 c. flour
5 tsp. sugar
1 Tbsp. salt
1/3 c. plus half of 1/3 c. dry milk
1 1/2 Tbsp. butter cut into small chunks
2 1/4 tsp. (or one packet) dry yeast

Set the machine to Dough Cycle, turn it on, and go do something else for two hours. When the dough is done, flour a clean surface and knead the dough until it is no longer sticky but still elastic. Cut into 12 pieces and shape them into rolls. Place these into a greased pan, cover them with a towel, and let them double in size. Of course, here is where it gets a little tricky. Grandma being a yeast roll genius simply gave the instruction "bake." I baked ours on 375 degrees until they were golden brown on top. Then we covered them with aluminum foil and baked them a little longer just because they looked a bit doughy inside. Once out of the oven, run a stick of butter over the tops to give them that nice I'm-going-to-melt-in-your-mouth glow. You can try to let them cool a bit before breaking into them, but that never works for us.


As I shaped the rolls on Saturday I allowed myself a little daydream about having made the rolls completely by hand and imagined it akin to squeezing one of those rice-filled stress balls for an hour. I thought of my grandmother and all the ways she spent loving her family, big and small. And then I snapped back to reality and rinsed out the bread machine basket. Of course, there is something to making the rolls by hand. These don't taste quite as good as Grandma's. She was one of a kind. But for those cape-less parents out there who trip small anthills in a single bound, they aren't bad.

For Posterity's Sake: Week in Review 33

I find myself amazed these days at the littlest things: a trip to the grocery store or a ride in the car. These used to be mundane tasks - the things I do every week, sometimes without thinking. But lately, I've been seeing these trips through a new lens - the view from the passenger riding in the car seat or shotgun in my cart. And, well, she's got things to say and plenty of questions to ask (such as, what is that net doing in there with those fish?). These little "mundane" tasks will never be the same. Here are just a few of her observations/comments from this week:

Getting Audrey out of the bathtub can sometimes be a bit of a trick. I often resort to games. On Tuesday, I hid her behind the towel and said, "Where did Audrey go?" When she laughed, I replied, "I can hear her, but I can't see her." Then, I got distracted with drying her off, and while I had her hidden, I had stopped commentating on it. Audrey let a minute or two pass and then asked, "Can you talk about it?"

Wednesday, she was "reading" a book to herself. The page she was on had an illustration of feet where the legs were not visible. Audrey looked at the picture and read, "Then she broke her feets. They're not on."


We were returning from an errand-spree on Thursday when Audrey said from the backseat, "I love my Daddy."

"I love your Daddy, too," I said. "He's a good guy."

"He's not a good guy," she said. "He's a man and you're a woman."
I stand corrected.


Audrey awaits the daily arrival from work of that Daddy she loves with much anticipation. On Friday when she heard the car pull in she opened the garage door to wait on him. When he met her at the door she said, "Good job Daddy. Good job driving. Good job driving home."


Today, after a long spell in her playroom, Audrey and Jason came downstairs. "What did you do?" I asked.

"I made food for that man," she said.

Jason and I laughed. He didn't seem to take offense. Sometimes it's good to be the man.


We hope you are enjoying your weekend, taking a little time to do the things you love, or doing the mundane, but in a way (or with a sidekick) that makes it feel new. Who knows, it could just be your weekend to be the man.